


Aftermath

by orphan_account



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Blood, M/M, Spoilers for 2x09, The ChillyWilly is pre-slash, corpse, jsyk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-26
Updated: 2014-04-26
Packaged: 2018-01-20 20:44:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1524986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In an alternate universe, Will decides to keep Chilton in his home instead of turning him in to the FBI. After the events of Shiizakana, they have words.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Aftermath

Frederick cannot take his eyes off Will’s heaving form before him, cannot hear anything beyond the barking of the dogs and Will's belabored gasping for breath. Not that all of it is clear, because Frederick certainly isn’t going to be the one to reach from his place clutching the doorframe past the obviously unstable man to turn on a light. There is a body on the floor, he knows, to go with the blood on Will’s face, the torn skin of his knuckles. The body he can not bring himself to look at.

 

Will still has the dead man’s…. mechanical extinct bear jaws clenched in one hand, from having torn them off of him before beating the young man to death. Frederick had never seen the other man perform an act of such physicality before, hadn’t known he was capable of it. In the days when he thought Will was the copycat Frederick had assumed he had simply caught his victims off guard, and feels as if he should have been informed of this capacity for brutality before Will had been institutionalized under his care. Before he came to live, hidden, under Will’s own roof.

 

Will has turned his head to return Frederick’s staring, and he is seized by some deeply buried prey instinct that freezes him in place, eyes darting a it around the room- the long discarded gun is on the other side of it entirely because that is absolutely Frederick’s luck- before looking back to Will. The dogs have quieted. Will has never looked Frederick in the eyes, before now.

 

“Chilton-”

 

He realizes distantly that he has been driven to hysteria. “Frederick. I rather think we’re on a first name basis now, Will, don’t you-”

 

“Chilton!” Will barks out his name, and then sucks in air through his teeth. “I need you to calm down, Frederick.”

 

“Oh, I’m sorry, how unreasonable of me to be maybe a bit anxious at the sight of you murdering a man in the entryway, I should-”

 

Frederick can’t seem to finish a sentence tonight. He stops when he hears the bear skull clatter to the ground, and moments later he is being yanked away from his not-quite-comfortable distance from the crime scene and being pulled by his shoulder closer to Will Graham. His grip on the doorframe is lost, and Frederick ends up stumbling and being held up by the hand that knocked him off balance in the first place. There’s a metaphor for his life in there somewhere, he thinks.

 

“He was going to kill us, Frederick.” Will is still looking him unsettlingly in the eyes, and Frederick finds himself personally sympathizing with the other man’s usual distaste for it.

 

“You had a gun, Will, he was- he was beaten unconscious long before you finished with him, you could have stopped-”

 

“He saw you!” This was getting ridiculous. (Frederick’s own thought patterns were getting ridiculous.) “He saw you, what was- what was I supposed to do, take him into the FBI? Hope he doesn’t mention seeing a fugitive in my home, hope they just decide not to investigate the crime scene?”

 

“So what?” Frederick’s voice is scathing. “You did this for me? I’m touched, Will, by the familiarity bred in the two weeks I’ve spent slumming around in your home. You did this because your ‘seduce the cannibal’ plan is backfiring exactly how Hannibal was hoping it would.”

 

“Of course I did this-” Will stopped, let go of Frederick’s shoulder- if even an ounce of Frederick’s thought process could bother itself with clothing he’d be grateful he wore one of Will’s own shirts to get bloodied handprints on tonight- and swallowed audibly. “My harboring you wouldn’t exactly look great for me either, obviously. He needed to die. At least I- at least I can keep him from being wasted.”

 

Will’s old files are flashing behind Frederick’s eyes. “Oh really, Will? Are you going to honor every part of him?”

 

There is a look on Will’s face that makes Frederick abruptly certain that he has just chosen how he will die. Collateral damage of Will Graham’s unbecoming, courtesy of his own stupid mouth.

 

“Do not ever- _never again_ , Chilton.” Frederick nods hurriedly and Will finally looks away from him, closes his eyes and takes a moment to collect himself. He seems to have been violently thrown off. “Of course I won’t- I- I’m going to take him to Hannibal. Make it out like- tell him it felt. Good.”

 

“And did it?” Frederick clenched his jaw. “Did it feel good? Because I’m pretty sure I ought to know, if it did.”

 

“Yes. I mean- you deserve to know. But.” Will bit thoughtfully at his lower lip. “But I don’t know- it didn’t. It didn’t feel good to kill him like this. Where-” He stopped, gestured at Frederick in a way he wasn’t sure either of them understood. “I’m not going to go around doing it for the thrill, if that’s what you’re worried about. It didn’t feel that good.”

 

“Excellent, thank you, that was hardly reassuring at all.” Frederick rubbed at his own face. “Will?”

 

“Yes? I-” he looked down again at the body, “I should get going, I’ll need to collect myself on the way to his office.”

 

“Right, yes, obviously.” He eyed the murderer who had taken him in up and down, swallowed. “ Are you going to be al- will you be home again, tonight?”

 

Will barked out a laugh. “Ah, no. No, I don’t think so.”

 

“Right. Well. I won’t be much use getting a body into the car.” Frederick took a step back. “I’ll just- I’ll be in the guest room.”

 

“Right.”

 

Frederick turned, started to walk away.

 

“Goodnight, Frederick.”

 

Kept walking. “Ah, no, Will. Not even a little.”

 

“Yes, well- obviously. I’ll see you, Frederick.”

 

Stopped. “I certainly hope so, Will.”

 

“Do you?”

 

He turned around. In the dark, and with some distance, he could barely see Will’s silhouette. He thought about it. “Yes, Will. I do.”


End file.
